My mother and her ancestors before me have graced me with their flat-chested graces. Some girls hit puberty at 12 and have massive breasts and me? Well I'm still waiting to hit puberty. From what I gather when you receive a mammogram, you walk into a metal clamping machine of death and the tech grasps what they can between the plates and squeezes away. I'm imagining myself shoving my arm, perhaps my neck skin and even my stomach into the machine to get enough breast to get a result. I will probably be disfigured for the rest of my life due to the stretching.
The fake laugh:
Let's be serious here, sometimes you have to put on a show for the people that are around you. It might be at work, it might be infront of your great aunt who you count on for a monetary Christmas payment, it might be after your boss asks you if you have been swearing at small children.
(Q) "Lauren, have you been using the f-word while at work, most disturbingly, directed at small children?"
(A) (Fake laugh) "What me? No I make it my goal to never swear."
When you can't do up your pants in the change room:
Whenever I go shopping, I seem to forget my pant size. I am not certain it ever changes, however I can never remember what size I am. This scene usually begins with me busting into a change room with a butt-load full of pants, all the same size. To my dismay, on pant number one, I can NOT do the button up for the life of me.
I try the:
1. One leg up on the change room bench technique.
2. The both feet pointed and jump technique, while reefing on the belt loops.
can't. grunt. get. grunt. these. grunt. ONNNNN
3. Have your trusty friend pull the pants on for you (sound effects included)
Closed Toilet Seats
You've probably been dreaming about going pee for the last hour. You're standing on a bridge about to make the big sweeping descent when your dream-self says "Wait, I need to find a toilet". You groggily get out of bed and stumble down the hall in a dream like state, sit down (this NEVER happens to guys) and you just want to go pee so badly, and the lid is closed. This usually makes me so pissed off I wake up fully the second I sit down. Then you're all relieved thinking "oh thank god I didn't actually go pee on the seat". Yeah I can't be the only one this happens to.
I wasn't aware that it was socially acceptable for guys to be rearranging their junk in public, non discretely like they're just, you know, unsticking a sticky hand from their inner thigh. This probably starts in around grade one, when little boys have their hands down the front of their pants, playing a little pocket pool.
Wack, smack, playing a little pocket pool with those handy pocket sized balls. If by chance I birth a male child, I will be wiping those hands with lysol wipes before cuddling, hugging, playing, or anything where those pocket pool hands will come into contact with my body. the end.
Why does someone always knock on the door when you've decided to go on an underwear strike? You gotta do that split second decision making, do you risk losing the visitor (who could be a Fed-ex man delivering goodies) or do you run back to your room to grab clothes.
You choose to just answer the door, holding a winter jacket you grabbed from the entry way in front of your body. It's even more awkward when you get to sign the Fed-ex electronic signy pad thing when he hands it to you. Just don't answer the door without pants on, it's as simple as that.
Always sign up for a "beginner" yoga class, because no matter what, you will always be the worst person there. When the instructor says "and if you want to try something a little more difficult" don't you dare even try it if you enjoy walking without a pulled groin. Whenever I think doing the advanced positions are a good idea, I end up rolling off my mat and into other people, or into the mirror, or into the instructor as she walks by casually correcting people. She doesn't even bother to adjust me because I am so beyond fixing.